


Another Bond Like No Other

by bluebellfantasy



Series: Snapshots [3]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997)
Genre: Awkward Cloud Strife, Baking, Cloud Strife is a big softie, Denzel is a good kid, Family Bonding, Father's Day, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Happy Father's Day, Kawaii, M/M, Post-Advent Children (Compilation of FFVII), Post-Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Post-Final Fantasy VII, father-son bonding, so cute, so sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:47:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24844801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebellfantasy/pseuds/bluebellfantasy
Summary: Cloud wakes up to an...interesting surprise on a day that he'd forgotten all about. Just cute Denzel and Cloud bonding fluff! Happy Father's Day!
Relationships: Denzel & Cloud Strife
Series: Snapshots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1764661
Comments: 8
Kudos: 47





	Another Bond Like No Other

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Father's Day everyone!!! I'm surprised at the lack of fics involving Cloud and Denzel bonding, so I wrote this in honor of that and of Father's Day. My dad is a HUGE influence in my life, and I seriously can't imagine my life without him. I thought it would be interesting to see a fic where Cloud, who never knew his own father, bonds with Denzel, who lost his father. As always, tips and constructive advice are welcome! Hope you enjoy it!

Cloud always woke up at the smallest noise.

Being in SOLDIER did that to you: whether it was someone walking by or a stair creaking, senses went on high alert and you were wide awake. So when Cloud heard a loud clang from downstairs, he was immediately awake. Was someone in the house?

But first things first: he quickly glanced at Tifa, who was sleeping beside him. She shifted in her sleep a little, but her eyes were still closed, her breathing deep. She was safe. Cloud pushed some hair back from her face before swinging his legs out of bed, grabbed the Buster Sword, and quickly but quietly walking to the door. He shut it quietly behind him, then quickened his pace.

Walking down the stairs, Cloud swore he heard a child’s voice. It couldn’t be Marlene; she was spending the weekend with Barret in Corel. So it had to be Denzel. Relief flooded him: so it wasn’t a burglar. Good. _What is he doing up so late?_ Cloud thought to himself. _Or early,_ he corrected himself as he glanced at the clock on the wall.

The same voice he heard before let out a string of words that should _not_ be coming out of the mouth of an eight-year-old. Then there was a small _thump,_ as if something had been set on the floor. Cloud crossed the small threshold into the kitchen, wincing a few times as the harsh light hit his eyes. When he was sure he could see properly, he looked around.

Cloud blinked. _What the…?_

Thick, yellowish-white batter covered the counter tops, the doors to the cupboards, and even reached so far as the refrigerator doors. A large bag of flour had spilled over, its contents pouring onto the floor. The more Cloud looked around, the more he saw: teaspoon measurements scattered across the counters, cup measurements filled with various baking ingredients, and what looked like multiple mixing bowls stacked on top of each other.

He found the culprit in the corner, by the microwave: a large mixing bowl, with a hand-held mixer in it. The beaters were still attached, but they too were covered in batter so thick it could’ve passed as cement.

And in the middle of the kitchen floor, his face buried in his knees, sat Denzel.

“Denzel?” Cloud whispered, walking towards him. He could feel the stickiness of combined sugar, flour, and other ingredients under his feet.

Denzel immediately raised his head, his big eyes filled with surprise. Cloud’s heart sank slightly when he saw that they were also filled with tears. Denzel quickly wiped at his eyes, spreading dried batter from his hands all over his cheeks. Cloud carefully leaned the Buster Sword against the wall.

“Denzel, are you okay?” Cloud asked, stepping around various baking dishes. He managed to make it to a clear spot and sat in front of the small boy. Denzel didn’t look like he was hurt – there were no visible bruises or cuts Cloud could see – and he let out an inward sigh of relief. If Denzel had accidentally hurt himself on one of Tifa’s sharp knives he didn’t know what he would do.

“Denzel, what happened?” Cloud made sure his voice was soft.

Denzel shook his head, swallowing hard. “What happened?” Cloud asked again, looking around at the catastrophe around them.

“Please don’t be mad,” Denzel whispered.

Cloud’s brow furrowed. “Why would I be mad?” (If anyone would be downright livid at the scene before them, it would be Tifa). At Denzel’s silent reply, Cloud tried again. “Were you hungry or something?”

Denzel shook his head sadly. “No. It was -” he sniffed, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. Cloud resisted the urge to wipe away the batter mixture on the tip of his nose. “It was supposed to a surprise. For you.”

Cloud raised his eyebrows. “For me? What for?” His birthday wasn’t for another two months. Of course, Tifa sometimes liked to do spontaneous baking for Cloud “just because.” Maybe Denzel was the same way.

Denzel gave Cloud a look. Cloud could practically hear what the kid wasn’t saying: _Are you kidding me._ “For tomorrow. Tomorrow’s -”

It clicked. “Father’s Day.” Cloud said quietly.

Denzel’s eyes welled with tears. “I wanted to make you a cake or something, and I wanted it to be a surprise. But the recipe was really confusing and I didn’t know what to do. And when I tried to beat the stuff together it went everywhere.” He covered his face with his dried-batter hands. “And I just got so frustrated because I didn’t do it right!”

“...well, why didn’t you ask Tifa for help?” Cloud asked, bewildered.

“I wanted to do it myself!” Denzel said emphatically, his voice muffled.

“Denzel, it’s okay-” Cloud began.

“No, it’s not!” Denzel cried, lowering his hands. “I wanted it to be special! And now it’s ruined!”

Cloud looked at the mess around them, and then back at Denzel. How long had he been planning this? How many times had the poor kid imagined Cloud’s expression on his face of a surprise cake? That image was ruined now. Denzel prided himself on his various accomplishments – he was smart, did well in school, and was great with his hands – but oftentimes he took it to an extreme. If a project didn’t turn out the way he wanted it to, he often got mad or frustrated to the point of tears.

Like now.

_Oh man, how do I fix this?_

Cloud wasn’t good with words. That was more of Tifa’s thing. He always knew what he wanted to say, but they either never left his mouth or didn’t do his feelings justice. The thought that Denzel wanted to surprise him warmed his heart. And the thought that, while Denzel lost his real father a while ago, he thought of Cloud as a father figure...it was almost too much.

Denzel was a good kid. He had emotional strength beyond his years, was kind to all, and was always willing to help Cloud. A few times in the past Denzel had looked at him with nothing but pure admiration, and it always made Cloud uncomfortable. He didn’t deserve that admiration. Not one bit. It should be the other way around, if anything. Regardless, it was clear that Denzel looked up to Cloud quite a bit. His heart swelled, and it was both sweet and painful at once.

Silently he prayed to whatever gods were listening, _help me say this right._

“Hey,” Cloud began, laying a hand on Denzel’s shoulder. “look at me.” Denzel obeyed, lowering his hands. “That was a very kind thing to do, Denzel. And I...appreciate it. I really do. And I’m sorry I barged in and ruined the surprise.” He paused, trying to collect his thoughts. When he began again, his voice was so soft Denzel leaned forward a little. “But...you don’t need to make me a cake.”

“I didn’t?” Denzel asked, confused. “But I wanted to.”

Cloud shook his head, a small smile on his face. “I know you did. But I know how you feel, and that’s enough for me.”

“R-Really?” Denzel asked, a smile forming on his face.

Cloud nodded. “You betcha.”

In a span of less than four seconds Denzel stood up, brushed the flour from his shirt, and threw his arms around Cloud’s neck. “Thanks Cloud,” he said, his voice muffled slightly. After a moment he added, “….is it okay if I call you Dad sometimes?”

Slightly dazed, Cloud slowly wrapped his arms around Denzel’s small frame. “Yeah...of course you can."


End file.
